Chapter 8 - Cracks in the EmpireBefore Grant could stand up, Daniel stepped forward, motioning to the two deputy sheriffs.

“Grant Mercer, Vivian Mercer,” Daniel announced, his voice booming over the cathedral. “You are both under arrest for grand larceny, filing false legal instruments, and attempted bank fraud in excess of five million dollars.”

The sheriffs stepped onto the altar, pulling Grant up from his knees and pinning his arms behind his back. The metallic click-clack of heavy steel handcuffs snapped around his wrists, echoing loudly off the stained-glass windows.

Vivian screamed as the second deputy cuffed her hands behind her gold lace gown. “Un-hand me! Do you know who I am?! I am Vivian Mercer!”

“You are a defaulted debtor facing ten years in state prison, Mrs. Mercer,” Daniel informed her coldly.

Reporters from the local news networks who were sitting in the balcony immediately began broadcasting live feeds. Within thirty minutes, video footage of Celeste’s fake belly bouncing across the St. Regis altar while Grant and his mother were led away in handcuffs went viral across every major news platform in the country.

Social media exploded with hashtags: #TheFakeHeir #StRegisWeddingScandal #JusticeForHannah #GrantMercerExposed.

As the deputies dragged Grant down the center aisle past four hundred high-society guests who were whispering and taking photos, he turned his head toward me, crying hysterically.

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“Hannah! Please!” Grant sobbed as he was pulled through the double doors. “I love you! I’ll fix this! Don't take my daughter away!”

I didn't answer him. I didn't smile. I simply adjusted Lily’s blanket, turned my back, and walked out into the warm afternoon sun.